


Friend fiction

by silveriris



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Established Relationship, Fenders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4491723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveriris/pseuds/silveriris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keeping their ‘relationship’ secret isn’t easy… / written for Fenders Appreciation Week on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friend fiction

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Dragon Age is not mine, although the writing certainly is.  
> A/N: this is so plotless it’s embarrassing...

His dream ended before it even began, forcing Fenris to open his eyes and face a new day.

He jumped on the floor, all tense and ready to strike, his wild eyes scanning the room, searching for enemies. When he noticed there was someone on the bed, he froze, his heart skipping a beat.

_Anders_.

Fenris took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. His whole body relaxed as his mind focused on the present moment, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

Anders was tangled in sheets, yet somehow he managed to cover only the lower half of his body, exposing his skin to the cold morning air. Seeing the mage in his mansion, in his _bed_ , was still rather strange. They kept their… _relationship_ a secret, of course. As troublesome as it was at times, pretending to despise each other like they used to, Fenris didn’t even want to imagine what could happen if others knew about them. He could barely stand Isabela’s lewd comments about his tattoos; there was no need to give the pirate more things to laugh at.

With a huff of irritation, Fenris turned away from the bed, his ears burning red. He thought about the evening and remembered... drinking, yes, there was no mistake he was currently experiencing one of the worst hangovers in his entire life. He tasted wine on his tongue, wine and... something. He felt sore but other than the pounding in his head, it was a _pleasant_ kind of sore.

He remembered emptying one bottle after another, and _another_. Then he vaguely recalled seeing Anders sitting by the table, sharing a bottle with him. They weren't supposed to meet last night, but he came to the mansion anyway. Fenris wasn't sure what the hell he had done – but at least it didn't result in killing the mage. From what he was seeing now, it seemed it resulted in something completely different. With a heavy sigh, he scanned the room searching for his clothes. Noticing Anders’ coat, he cringed. He could swear the blighted thing was laughing at him.

Suddenly Fenris froze, turning his head to the door, now opened wide.. He heard a noise coming from downstairs, and he was sure the door to the hidden passage creaked. He didn't keep this house in a half–ruined stated simply because he was lazy; he could hear when someone was inside, it all worked like a useful alarm.  

He swore under his breath, looking around to locate his leggings. He didn't remember undressing, and he certainly didn't remember throwing his clothes _on the table_ , yet there they were. He pulled them on quickly, swearing some more, before rushing to face whoever dared to visit him. Other than Danarius, only the elf's 'companions' knew about the hidden passage to the mansion. Best case scenario – it was a slaver who wanted to deliver him to his former master. Even in this wobbly state, crushed by the worst hangover in his life, Fenris could get rid of an enemy in a one swift movement of his sword (although he didn't know _where_ the hell was his sword).

Worst case scenario, it was Hawke. She would insist on staying longer, then she would go to the bedroom and see all those scattered clothes, the damned coat with those stupid feathers laying on the floor, and the mage on the bed sleeping like an innocent little lamb. Of course Hawke wouldn't come here alone. She would surely take Varric, Isabela and Sebastian with her. And they all would see the naked apostate.

And _that_ …

That would be the end of the world, Fenris was sure.

He already knew about the so–called _friend fiction_ Isabela and Varric liked to write. Fenris found out that some of those impossible stories included a former slave and an apostate mage. Both of these characters were suspiciously similar to him and Anders, though Varric came up with some lame pseudonyms. Even though they weren't mentioned by name, Fenris wasn't that foolish to fail to notice that the “dangerously handsome sword master with muscular tattooed body” and the “troubled magician with blond curls and eyes like honey” were someone else than him and the mage.

They were main characters in only two friend fictions, though they were included in most of them, usually as background characters. Fenris once overheard the dwarf reading his writing to Nora at the Hanged Man. After Varric retreated to his room, Fenris followed him and threatened to rip his heart out if he refused to explain what in the void he had just heard.

He couldn't read back then, so he _politely_ asked Varric to read him a passage. That sly dwarf chose the latest of his and Isabela stories, and coincidentally the most obscene one to date. Grabbing every book in sight, Fenris stormed out, vowing to burn the books as soon as possible.

Curiosity won, however, and the elf put the blighted tomes under his bed. When Hawke started teaching him to read, Fenris remembered about the books. Even though he intended to burn them again, he started _reading_ them instead. One thing he had to admit, Isabela had a wicked sense of humour.

And thus, friend fiction proved to be an interesting alternative to _Herbs of Thedas_ that Anders gave him to practice reading. Knowing the stories were in fact popular but officially nobody never heard about them, of course, he asked here and there, obtaining the latest three books. One of them was focused entirely on him and the mage; one third of the story was about them arguing, the rest was, well, a very detailed description of what could possibly happen if the real life versions had a never ending libido. To his surprise, Fenris found it more funny than embarrassing. He didn’t told anyone about his peculiar hobby, of course.

The other had a “strikingly beautiful, adventurous pirate queen” as the main character, seducing wealthy men and stealing their coin. The third one was a 'limited edition' and included an exiled prince named _Valerious_ who came to Kirkwall to atone for his sins, but instead he ended up working in the Blooming Rose. For a long period of time, Fenris couldn't look Sebastian in the face, cursing Isabela's perverted imagination.

That was long time ago, however, and now he had to face completely different problems. Ready to strike, Fenris braced himself to prepare for whatever was waiting for him in the other room.

 

* * *

 

“We should really talk to him,” Varric said, keeping Bianca close to his side, away from the mess that was everywhere in this place. “How can he live like this?”

“Maybe he likes spiders. And dust. And ruin,” Merrill shrugged. “Besides, Hawke said they cleaned the wine cellars the other day.”

Varric snorted. “I doubt there was actual _cleaning_ involved, Daisy. They probably got massively drunk, finishing one fancy Tevinter wine after another.”

They went upstairs, trying to find the elf who was currently living in the mansion.

“Good day– _oh_!” Merrill stopped abruptly, her big eyes getting even bigger at the sight before them. Broken pieces of glass were covering the floor like a very spiky carpet. A big pile of unwashed dishes on the table threatened to collapse. Fenris’ tunic was laying on the floor. Interestingly enough, the gauntlets and chest piece were placed neatly by the wall, though the sword was nowhere to be seen. Merrill looked up to admire a huge spider web covering the chandelier like a veil, noticing a fat spider waiting for its prey.

“Damn...” Varric wasn't sure what to say, which was a highly confusing sensation that he didn’t feel very often in his life.

Then they saw Fenris who jumped out of his bedroom looking like a frenzied animal. He was ready to pounce, but recognising his companions his whole body froze in place.

Varric eyed the elf, confused and honestly a bit worried. Fenris smelled like wine and, Maker save them all, sex. If Varric didn't know him, he would say Broody had a night of hardcore shagging accompanied by heavy drinking. He radiated even more broodiness than usually, looking like he could kill a man (or a _dwarf_ ) in a blink of an eye.

“You don't look good,” Merrill stated the obvious.

“What do you want?” the voice that came out of Fenris' mouth only confirmed Varric's theory about heavy drinking. Just when he thought the elf's voice couldn’t get more hoarse...

“Hawke's got a job for us,” the dwarf explained. He didn't fail to notice that Fenris was stepping away from the bedroom door, as if trying to focus their attention somewhere else _but_ there.

He suspected their favourite sword master had a thing for Hawke (but then again who _didn't_? Everyone loved Hawke), and that he would do something about it eventually. Yet, Fenris never revealed his feelings, if he had any. He even stopped looking at Hawke with his shiny puppy eyes every time she told him something even remotely resembling a compliment. As if he focused his attention on someone else. Varric quickly glanced at the bedroom door. _Interesting_ …

“What job?” Fenris barked. His messy hair made him look like a lunatic. Or a guy who had a night of nonstop sex.

“She got a map that leads to a hidden treasure. I wonder if it's _really_ real because who would hide a treasure only to make a map so others could find it?” Merrill said, glancing at the fat spider. “But Hawke claims it's true. Or at least that we should check, just in case. The map leads to the caves outside Kirkwall, and we can meet some nasty monsters in there, so it's better to get a team.”

Her eyes returned to Fenris. “And you're our best warrior if you're not, _um_ , in a state like _this_ ,” she made a vague hand gesture.

Fenris chewed on his lip; Varric could almost hear the elf's strained brain working with a fog of hangover. He _could_ risk running to the bedroom to see who in the void managed to make Broody look like this. He was also well aware of the fact that dwarfs had legs considerably shorter than elves. And on top of that his dear friend was a highly skilled death machine that could rip his heart out before Varric would make a step.

But he was _curious_. It wasn't yet another of his and Rivaini's friend fictions, it was _happening_.

“Well, there's no need to rush, we still have to get some things before we go.”

It was easy to guess Fenris was coming, despite his heavy hangover. Hawke was asking him, and he couldn't refuse her.

“You... uh, get ready, then. Bathe, my friend, _please_. Let's meet in the usual place in an hour.”

Fenris only glared. Varric forced a smile. It was difficult to be friends with this particular elf, sometimes.

“Anyway, we're going to get Blondie– “

“We don't need the mage!” Fenris let out a growl that made Varric and Merrill take a step back. “Whatever Hawke wants to do, we do _not_ need him!"

“He's our healer...” Merrill reminded.

“Get more blighted healing potions for all I care,” the elf snapped with a ferocity of a wild dog. “We _don’t need_ the mage.”

Varric let out a sigh. Merrill frowned but kept silent knowing they didn't need to say much to make Fenris mad. Usually they just needed to mention 'Anders' or 'mage' to make him rage for at least half an hour if no one stopped him.

“All right, Blondie's not going with us. He's busy with his clinic anyway, I believe. Come on, Daisy, let's go,” Varric grabbed her hand.

And then they all heard a creak.

It could only mean that _someone_ was in the bedroom.

And that someone was moving _on the bed_.

Fenris whipped his head to glare at the bedroom door with anger but also a very visible hint of desperation. Merrill gasped. Varric squeezed her hand almost too hard, his curious mind threatening to implode.

“We're sorry, we weren't aware you have company,” the Dalish elf said before Varric could produce a comment. “Is this what I'm supposed to say in this situation? I think Fenris feels very embarrassed right now or else he would introduce us to his companion. Maybe we should leave. Meeting a new person would be nice, though. I don't know how people act in this kind of– “

“Yes, we're _going_!” Varric said louder than he meant to, his voice thundering between the walls, his whole body sweating under Fenris' murderous gaze. “Hawke’s waiting for us, so we better hurry!”

They nearly ran to the door, this time leaving the mansion through the main entrance since it was significantly closer than the hidden passage.

 

* * *

 

When Fenris returned to his room, fuming with anger, he was ready to yell at the mage before throwing him out and, _possibly_ , ripping his stupid feathered coat into pieces. But half way to the bed, he stopped.

Anders was curled on the other side of the bed, still asleep, his mouth opened wide. He looked quite… _adorable_. At least he wasn’t snoring.

Fenris shook his head. His lips twitched, fighting with a smile, his anger instantly disappearing.

_Foolish mage_.

* * *

 

A/N2: Thanks for reading! Comments are always appreciated :)


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